When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 619 - 582 Constitutional Convention (Part 2)

A noble gasped first, followed by whispers across the right and middle seats.

Like a domino effect, the discussion grew louder, with almost everyone talking and even pointing at the content of the "Charter Draft" in surprise.

"We disagree, we absolutely disagree!" The representatives of the right seats shook their heads and even booed.

"As it should be!" Seeing more opponents, those on the left stood up to support, "It's high time the nobility was checked!"

In the middle seats, some applauded, some booed, but most remained silent.

The source of sovereignty lies in a sufficiently strong imagined community that can gain the recognition of the majority.

From this perspective, "the absolute authority of the Holy Father" is an excellent banner; there is no problem with that.

But, starting from the second sentence, things begin to go wrong.

Because although Horn made concessions, a careful examination reveals the underlying implication—the divine grants authority to humans, and humans grant it to the monarch.

Seemingly, it's divine right, but in reality, there's an intermediary step of human consent.

Don't underestimate the sensitivity of nobles like Moliat; they can see at a glance that Horn's actions have dimmed the holy light of the crown.

With the holy light gone, the stains on the crown become clear to everyone.

For these noble lords, the leader's position granted by the populace is like digging up their roots; if this gets passed, they will have no foundation left.

Even though they once fought alongside Horn in the Thousand River Valley War, Count Nathaniel couldn't wait to stand up: "Mr. Horn, do you mean that our titles, passed down through generations, must be recognized by the populace?"

"Of course." Horn admitted frankly; pretending otherwise was meaningless at this point.

"This is absurd, on what grounds?" Although speaking to Horn, Count Nathaniel kept exchanging glances with his colleagues on the right seat, "Our titles were established by the will of the Holy Father and won by our ancestors through blood and sweat.

Mr. Horn, how can you equate these honors with recognition by the populace?"

The surrounding nobles kept nodding, and even the monks and lesser nobility in the middle seats also followed suit.

Within the nobility, there are also distinctions between different ranks, with extraordinary ability coming before titles, and living off taxes considered over estate income.

In this division, there are great nobles like Moliat, country nobles like Count Sanboli, and those like Ovid, who have empty titles or none at all.

Though they are not always on the same side, in this matter, their interests align, and they naturally support each other at the conference.

Before Horn could speak, Brother Thomas stood up first: "Did you weave your clothes yourself? Did you prepare your lunch?

You always consider yourselves as proxies for the Holy Father, but the Holy Father grants everything to the faithful; isn't the sustenance and prosperity of the land dependent on the hard work of the populace?

Without the populace, all the lord would possess is a barren land."

"Good——" Under the black and red banner, the Salvation Army and Saint Father Cultivators applauded loudly.

Count Nathaniel's face turned red, but he still argued, "The Holy Father entrusted the land to us; we are His stewards. To let the populace 'grant us authority,' isn't this challenging the Holy Father's authority?"

"The Holy Father bestowed power upon you not to elevate you above all but to manage the land with justice and kindness.

If you have lost the trust of the populace, does that not indicate you have failed to fulfill the Holy Father's will?"

Even Martin, representing the middle seat, couldn't help but stand up to refute.

As a monk by tradition and one who participates weekly in the Saint Father's Association debates, Martin's few words left Nathaniel speechless.

"How can the affairs of lords be distinguished as good or bad..." He flushed, veins rising on his forehead, arguing incoherently.

Count Sanboli couldn't help but stand up to support him: "If the populace could manage themselves well, that would be great. I've seen indigenous people in the Xilan Islands, who have no lords and are so barbaric!"

He then turned to Horn, speaking courteously: "Mr. Horn, you've led armies before, so you must know how a lack of clear leadership leads to military defeat.

Similarly, a land needs a lord; the lord's significance is to provide order and protection for the populace. The populace lacks the ability to manage themselves, and our management is a charity to them!"

"Boo——"

"Disgusting, disgusting!"

Upon hearing these words, the Salvation Army officers on the left seats banged on the tables, with a barrage of bangs and curses, drowning out the latter part of Count Sanboli's speech.

The nobles similarly stood up, engaging in a spittle-flying argument with the left seat officers, leaving the representatives in the middle seats dumbfounded.

They had expected the constitutional assembly to be solemn and serious, only to find it resembling bickering from their guilds or village court hearings.

Many of the previously reserved representatives felt somewhat disillusioned.

"Quiet! Quiet!" Moliat pounded the table with an iron fist, shouting angrily.

With the ceremonial officers and gendarmerie entering, both sides of the representatives finally managed to quiet down.

Horn gestured invitingly: "Count Sanboli, please continue."

After thanking Horn, Count Sanboli cast a disdainful glance at the left seat officers: "As I mentioned earlier, we all know the state of those indigenous people: they have no lords, no order, and don't even understand the meaning of civilization. Do we want to let the Thousand River Valley descend into such wilderness?"

Clearing his throat, Armand adjusted his attire and slowly stood up: "Count Sanboli is indeed knowledgeable; the indigenous people you mentioned in the Xilan Islands are examples of a lack of education and civilization.

But our populace is different; they have faith, skills, and connections with their families and monasteries.

Without a lord, would they become like barbarians? Isn't that too much an underestimation of them?

Representatives, we are not against the existence of lords, but we must correct the unbounded behavior of these lords. Clearly, Hell doesn't scare Prince Kongdai and some nobles; they still persist in their wrongdoings.

Don't claim the Holy Father hasn't sent down divine punishment; haven't we received the Saint's Grandson?

The role of a lord is to assist and guide, not to dominate. Their actions should be constrained by the Holy Father. The Saint's Grandson was sent to establish a system to constrain the behavior of these nobles."

"Hooray——" Applause erupted from the left seats, even Rangbang couldn't help but clap. The previous comment by Count Sanboli about managing them as charity had left Rangbang uncomfortable.

The people in the right seats were visibly pale and began to whisper again.

This morning had indeed been a novel experience for Rangbang; the back-and-forth between both sides even spilled into the middle seats to rally support.

Along the way, two noble representatives attempted to bribe and coerce middle-seat representatives and were removed from the venue, one middle-seat representative suspected of accepting bribes had their qualification revoked.

Despite the confrontation lasting from morning till noon, no conclusion was reached, as neither side could persuade the other.

As the scorching sun reached the sky's zenith, the representatives were exhausted, prompting the two "Tribunes" in the seats of judgment to announce a recess for lunch.

"You don't need to leave for lunch; dishes are prepared by the constitutional assembly in the Holy Communion Hall, and the guest rooms on the second floor have beds for rest. But please return to the venue by 2 PM."

Holding a cream pastry he hadn't tasted in seven or eight years, Rangbang found Liborole in a corner eating.

Even outside the venue, the Holy Communion Hall remained divided.

The nobles and knights occupied the terrace, the officers gathered on one side of the corridor, and the middle positions, naturally, were taken up by the representatives.

"Why can't I see the two Tribunes?" Rangbang asked, licking his cream-covered fingers.

"The two Tribunes are dining together," Liborole replied, inserting a piece of honeyed chicken into his mouth, "likely discussing important matters. After all, whether we can legally oppose the nobility still depends on their decision, doesn't it?"

A craftsman on the side quietly said, "I understand now; we are called representatives, but we are actually just advisory consultants, and the real decisions are made by someone else.

"If the process goes as we envisioned, our role might not be as small as it seems." Liborole said while touching the representative badge on his chest, "It's not too big, but it's not too small either."

Liborole couldn't help but let his imagination run wild, wondering what they were discussing now?

Are they deliberating on the welfare of the people of faith?